Music for the Soul
by waytheballbounces
Summary: A bunch of song themed one-shots with different pairings every time. The first seven chapters will be for SoMa Week.
1. Chapter 1

**SoMa Week! Thought it would be the best time to start a one shot collection of mostly SoMa fluff this week so, yeah. I got woke up yesterday and I realized that SoMa Week was only a day away and I still had some drabbles to type... so yeah, sorry if this one seems a little rushed. Blame my bad time management DX**

**Music for the Soul is a Soul Eater fanfic with song inspired one-shot drably thingies. And sometimes prompts (like SoMa Week). There will be many pairings and they'll be different (sometimes it'll be SoMa, other times it will be SoulXLiz, get my drift?) for every one-shot. And I don't own Soul Eater or any of these songs.**

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**We're Going to be Friends- White Stripes (SoMa Week day one-Roommates)**

_Fall is here, hear the yell  
back to school, ring the bell  
brand new shoes, walking blues  
climb the fence, books and pens  
I can tell that we are gonna be friends  
I can tell that we are gonna be friends_

* * *

"Maka! We'll be fine. We're ten minutes earlier than we have to be. We will not be late for the first day of school," Soul yells. He sits at their kitchen table nursing a cup of coffee. His meister, on the other hand, scrambles around their apartment trying to fix her other pigtail, shove a piece of toast in her mouth, and find her other boot. Maka, the normally immaculate student, is a bit off kilter because her alarm clock broke.

Maka growls at him around the toast in her mouth. Then she lets out a triumphant note as she finds her boot and shoves it on her foot. She crams the last bite of toast in her mouth and she fixes her hair while starting towards the door. "Come on, Soul, let's go."

"Maka, I promise we won't be late! Just slow down."

His meister doesn't listen as she charges down the stairs. Soul sighs and scrambles after her.

They get to the garage and Maka bounces up and down impatiently for Soul to start the bike. Soul hops on and jams the key into the ignition and turns it. Nothing happens. "Crap," he mutters.

"What's the matter with your bike?"

"It won't start?" he phrases the statement as a question in nervousness. He screws his eyes shut as he waits for the Maka Chop that's sure to come. It doesn't. Tepidly, Soul opens his red orbs. Maka has already started to run to school. Soul hops up and bolts after her. They will be late if they don't hurry up.

Soul soon catches up with his meister and he starts pacing himself. He's no where near as good at running as Maka, and it soon shows. Her stamina and speed is better than Soul's and she starts to outpace him. Soul grunts and tries to go faster, but he can't.

"Hurry up, Soul."

"I'm going."

Sighing, Maka holds out a gloved hand and Soul leaps at the chance. In a flash, he's in weapon form and Maka's toting him around. Embarrassing, but not quite as bad as being outpaced by Maka. Soul relaxes as he listens to the rhythmic pounding of Maka's boots on the pavement. The power of her stubborn soul runs through him, not soul resonance, but he still feels her strength as he amplifies her wavelength. It runs through him like a warm liquid, warming up the cool metal of his weapon skin and making the dark place that he floats in more comfortable. He sighs inwardly. He missed this over summer vacation.

Maka feels his soul soothing out the jagged edges of her frazzled soul waves. Like water over rocks, the rough edges of her soul are calmed. With their level of partnership, it happens almost instantly. The calm collected feeling that washes over her in battle comes now with the cool light weight of her scythe over her shoulder. It causes her to push harder and Maka runs as fast as she can.

Maka's feet pound up the final steps up to Shibusen. Soul changes back into human form. His hand grasps hers and he tugs her into the school. Maka stumbles, slightly out of breath and follows Soul blindly, trusting her partner. The two plop into their seats in Professor Stein's as the bell rings and the Professor enters the room by falling off his swivel chair. Maka smiles, partly because of the Professor, partly because it's nice to be in school once more.

Soul glances at his smiling ash blonde meister. They'd done it again. They got through trivial things of being roommates. Of being a unified team.

Maka's evergreen orbs meet his wine red ones and their souls smile at each other.

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**Day one complete! The ending is kind of a reference to the saying that "Eyes are the windows to the soul." So... yeah. Click the little button below, and I'll see you guys tomorrow with day two: nose bleed. That one's going to be hard for me to write and thus short. I don't really write in an anime style. Wish me luck!**

**-waytheballbounces**


	2. Chapter 2

**Day two! I really don't know where I'm going with this one so brace yourselves. It's written from Soul's point of view and I don't like doing guy point of views. I still don't understand them even after living my whole life with my brother and we're really close. So, I try my best *winces***

* * *

**Short Skirt and a Long Jacket-Cake (SoMa Week Day 2: Nose Bleed)**

_I want a girl with the right allocations  
Who's fast and thorough  
And sharp as a tack_

_I want a girl with a short skirt and a long jacket_

* * *

One of the mysteries of life: how come Maka's skirt never flips up when she flips? It's like those short skirts purposely tease me. I live with a girl for Death's sake and that seems to be every guys dream, but it's not very glorious. Maka is so tomboyish sometimes, except for those damned skirts! Skirts that short should be illegal on girls like Maka who have long legs. heck, I don't even care if it's only illegal on Maka cause I could care less about those other girls. They were all just looks and flirtatious actions. It's like they live their who lives preparing to latch onto a man and never letting go. That's something Maka would never do. His meister's prepared, strong, and smart. The whole nine yards. And she relies on herself to get through life.

"Soul? Soul?" Maka's face focuses into view. A gloved hand waves in front of my face.

"Wha?" Wow, Soul, already losing your cool only a few days into your new partnership.

Maka rocks back onto her heels and stands up. Her gloved hand reaches toward me. "Come, on. Let's get back to training."

Well, word of meister is law. I stand up groaning and I stretch. Maka shoots me a look that clearly says _Today, Soul_ but I put it off as long as I can. We'd been training all morning and my transforming had been crappy. My metal skin kept trying to shed itself without my consent. It got so bad that we had to take a break just so I could collect myself. Why we had to train on Saturday of all days was beyond me.

In a flash of light, I change into my weapon form. The cool metal feels foreign and I can't move. Well at least my body didn't reject it instantaneously. I feel so trapped and claustrophobic. Maka swings me around experimentally and lets out a breath when my soul doesn't reject its new dwelling. My blade swings faster and faster as Maka goes deeper and deeper into the battle in her head. I concentrate on keeping in this weapon form. In my imagination my fingers twitch wishing to have something to do. All those years of playing piano is coming right back to bite me in the butt. Even without physically being there my fingers wish to do something. I concentrate on steadying my focus. A cool dark water flows over me and suddenly my red and black form feels like where I belong. The water is buzzing alive with a soul wavelength that isn't my own. It must belong to Maka. I am her instrument. She is to play me and I am here to help her express herself. All my senses are sharper so I can tell what my meister wants. I hear her breaths and her feet pounding the grassy floor of the clearing. I feel every slight shift of her hands. I watch her move as she contemplates what to do next.

I'm not human.

I'm a scythe blade.

Maka flips.

I lose it.

That skirt ever so slightly flips and I'm a goner.

Like a fish flopping out of water straight into the Sahara.

Why did this metal ever feel like home.

It flies off me and I become a thirteen year old once again.

A thirteen year old who almost impales himself on his own scythe arm.

But that doesn't matter. I'm dead in a matter of seconds any way.

Blood trickles down my chin and the look in Maka's eyes is murderous.

A book comes out of nowhere with no sound or warning.

I want to move, but apparently my mind doesn't understand that I have a body again.

A thick bound book smashes my skull and the world turns all bleary. My meister's red face can still be seen though. She tugs the hem of her skirt down as if to make it longer. She yells, "You're just like my papa!"

Maka turns and runs.

Soul Eater. Only a few days old and this life is already screwed. Maybe I'll just go home and become the perfect little Evans musician.

But Maka's worth more than that. And though my body protests, I stumble up and totter after my meister. Maka's worth going after.

But damn, that girl can wield a book.


	3. Chapter 3

**Don't own the song, the English translation, the prompt or Soul Eater.**

**The song's the Black Butler theme song, FYI**

* * *

**Monochrome no Kiss (SoMa Week Day Three- Madness)**

**I want this pain to scar deep, for I know**

In spite of every sign crying this night to be true

The sun will rise out you

So here's another kiss  
To tainted bliss  
A toast to empty promise  
With virtue pretending love as our ending  
We fall by the light of the moon

* * *

Soul lifts up a picture. It's one of Maka in her bathing suit smiling in the water of a time when they were at the beach. A ghosting of a smile touches his lips, but that's all. It can't chase away the lingering sadness in his crimson orbs. He doesn't think anything will be able to get rid of that.

_'Hehe, Soul, I can think of one thing that'll chase away that,'_ chuckles a little voice inside of his head.

"Shut up, Oni, I don't need your solutions. They are always crap. They don't get me anywhere."

From within the black room the demon smirks. _'You don't give me enough credit, Soul.'_

For a split second Soul swears that he sees the oni in the room, but the little demon is huge. Its disproportioned head seems to touch the ceiling.

Soul blinks and it's gone, back into the recesses of his soul. Gone, but only for now. Soul breaths a sigh of relief. Any time period without the oni is good, no matter how short.

_'It seems like that little demon pipes up about every five minutes, nowadays.' _sighing, Soul puts down the picture of his old meister.

_'No, I can't think like that! Maka'll always be my meister even if... even if...' _The weapon's thoughts derail as he breaks into wracking sobs like a little kid.

_'Shhhh, calm down, Soul.' _a gentle voice sooths.

Snapping his head up, Soul tries to find the source of the voice, not realizing that it came from within his head. Eyes wide with a deranged, yet scarily innocent look, he calls out, "Who's there?"

_'It's me, dummy,'_ the voice giggles.

"M-maka?"

_'Who else would it be?'_

For a split second, Soul's face splits into a wide genuine smile, the first one in months. No doubt in his mind, this has to be his meister. The oni had pulled a dirty trick, and Soul had slipped. There might be no going back now. The smile on Soul's face gets bigger and he look in his eyes becomes insane.

"Where are you, Maka?"

_"Follow my voice, Soul, and you'll find me."_

With poking and prodding from Maka's voice, Soul makes his way to Shibusen. He wanders the halls of Shibusen. _"There,"_ the voice hisses.

"What is it?" All Soul sees is a slightly out of it looking blonde and a Japanese girl.

_"Kill them, Soul."_

"Why?"

_"Because they're kishins. Trust me, Soul."_

"Always, Maka."

His right arm flashed into a red and black blade. He stalks towards the two girls menacingly. They shiver and their eyes get wide. The Japanese girl turns into a halberd and the blonde holds her unsure.

He makes the mistake of looking into the blonde's eyes. Wide oval pupils stare t him, innocent and confused. Honey orbs confused. For a second, they are evergreen and sharp. Soul stumbles and his blade turns into an arm once again.

"M-maka," Soul stutters.

He turns tail and runs. He doesn't see, he just runs. Eyes screwed tight against tears. Liquid grief and frustration that sting at the edges of his eyes. Death City blurs past him. _'Faster, faster.'_ He pushes so hard that his lugs ach and his breathing becomes ragged. _'Outrun the hurt and the pain.'_ Finally, Soul stops, keeling over on a patch of grass. He pants heavily for a while before sitting up. He wants to run, put his legs turn to jello at the sight of the grey stone tablet before him.

MAKA ALBARN  
WARRIOR

Three simple words. Short, succinct, and full of emotion. Typical Maka. Three simple words that cause Soul to lurch forward and grip the cold grey headstone.

"Maka," he whispers, "why'd you have to go?"

Soul slides down, squashing his face first against the headstone and then against the green grass.

The same green as her eyes.

"M-maka," he sobs, voice cracking and dying.

"Why?"

_'You can run, but you can't hide, Soul,'_ the voice and the oni intone simultaneously.

The moon chuckles in the sky.

"Why?" he screams.

In a bloodcurdling scream of grief and madness.

A world tainted in monochrome and blood.


	4. Chapter 4

**So it's SoMa week. A week of shipping and my ficlets have like no fluff what-so-ever! Sorry guys, not the best with writing fluff. Work in progress. Oh, well enjoy today's.**

* * *

**I Will Follow You into the Dark (SoMa week day 4:Loyalty)**

_The time for sleep is now  
It's nothing to cry about  
'Cause we'll hold each other soon  
In the blackest of rooms_

_If Heaven and Hell decide_  
_That they both are satisfied_  
_Illuminate the "No"'s on their vacancy signs_  
_If there's no one beside you_  
_When your soul embarks_  
_Then I'll follow you into the dark_  
_Then I'll follow you into the dark_

* * *

"Maka, Maka, Maka. What am I to do with you?" Soul chuckles as he holds both of his partner's hands in his own. Or really, it's just an attempt to chuckle that comes out as more or a liquidy gurgle, but they both ignore that. They don't really care anymore. The gurgle is caused by their life source leaking out slowly but surely one breath at a time. Their blood. Black and red swirling into a puddle around them.

The reaped evil soul is the only thing that illuminates the small warehouse that they are in. "That thing has caused us a lot of trouble," Maka murmmers as she stared lackadaisically at the red soul.

"Yeah, it certainly has."

It had started out as a normal battle, but it quickly escalated into something more. That something more which is causing their life forces to drain out onto a cold, grimy floor.

"Where do you think we go after we die, Soul?" Maka asks, her eyes alight with curiosity, despite the fact that they are also glazed over with pain.

Soul stared back down into her viridian eyes with his wine colored ones disbelievingly. "Really? You're discussing philosophy as you die?"

"What better time to do it?"

"Touché."

"But really, Soul, what do you think."

"I think... Well, I've never really thought about it. I guess it would be somewhere dark where you just sit and think. It isn't called after life for nothing."

"Really? I think it'll be somewhere nice where the weather is always perfect. It'll snow there, but it won't be could. The sun will kiss you, but you'll never burn. The sunsets will not be destroyed by pollution, but will be beauty in its true form."

"You should've been a poet Maka, not a meister."

The teen gives out a sour giggle, "If I wasn't a meister we wouldn't be in this mess."

"If you weren't a meister, the world would have succumbed to madness."

"Someone else would've figured it out, Soul. Reciprocity. If Asura wasn't meant to take over, he wouldn't have."

"But, Maka," Soul whines, "thinking like that'll get you no where."

"I am getting nowhere."

"Except to paradise."

After a couple moments of just sitting there, Soul pipes up. "I'd follow you there."

"To where?" his meister questions, mind forgetful with blood loss.

"To paradise, silly." He responds with his signature smirk.

"Greedy. How do you know you're invited?"

"Because you are."

"Oh yeah? Well I'd follow you to your little dark room and plop down and make myself at home. After that I'd talk your ears off."

"You know what I'll do?"

"What, Soul?"

Pinning her with his startlingly red eyes, he murmurs huskily, "I'd follow you anywhere. Into the light, into the dark."

With an evergreen gaze that rivals his she murmurs back, "And you know I will do the same."

Giving her one last final shark tooth grin. "Of course I do. And you should know the same."

Wrapping his arms around her, Soul pulls her into an embrace with his head resting on hers.

Lightly his lips brush hers.

It's the last thing she feels. In this world.

* * *

**One death yesterday, two today. Maybe there'll be three tomorrow? Who knows, cause I certainly don't.**


	5. Chapter 5

**So there was an earthquake yesterday. A 5.3 centered between twenty and thirty miles from my house. I haven't heard of anything too bad happening to anyone, but my mom wanted me to be in the same room as at least one other person so that's why I never finished typing this yesterday. So... yeah. I hope you enjoy this little piece.**

* * *

**Swan Lake: Scene One, Act Two-Tchaikovsky (SoMa Week Day 5- Wounds)**

* * *

The dry summer Nevada heat bakes our apartment. I hear Soul's whimpers across the hall from my room. On cat feet, I glide across the floor from my room to his. I slide the door open and shimmy in. Soul lies on the bed, tossing and turning and whimpering. Outside the window, the moon smiles, blood dripping from its mouth. I shiver. They say every time the moon bleeds, a weapon or meister dies. It won't take Soul.

Softly, I slide into Soul's bed. I tug his head into my lap and thread his fingers through his white hair. My weapon snuggles closer to me despite the heat. Whimpers still stray past his parted lips, but not as many. He still shifts restlessly in my arms. I trail my finger tips across his scar. My hand stops above his heart. Does his pain come from the heat and his wound? Or is it from his heart? I can't help it, I shudder. The injuries that were inflicted upon my heart are far worse than any pain inflicted by a blade. It gnaws you from the inside out. I can never forgive Soul for protecting me, but I can see why he did it. It would be better to endure physical pain instead of the pain that your partner is suffering because you didn't act. Sometimes I wish kishin didn't exist so I wouldn't have to go through that pain. So Soul will never have to. I pull my weapon tighter into my embrace.

Where would we be if there wasn't any evil?

* * *

**Yes, the song is a classical piece. Really pretty too. I suggest you listen to it. My band is actually playing it as one of our concert songs :)**


End file.
